


The Moon Will Always Shine

by heavnofhell



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavnofhell/pseuds/heavnofhell
Summary: {companion piece to "So Long as the Sun Burns"}





	The Moon Will Always Shine

Sometimes, even surrounded by unconditional love and the fiercest protection one can pray for, the fear becomes too much. It’s a gnawing, relentless thing, whispering harshly in the back of his mind, turning the brightness of his day into the darkest of night’s pitch. 

Sam fights it. He’s fought all of his life, and he isn’t going to let this be the thing to take him down - not now; not after everything he’s gone through. So he clenches his jaw and he puts his hands to work doing whatever it is he can, and he tells himself this is going to pass. 

But when he spends the day at his computer, or pouring over old books in the library, or even in the garage, changing the oil on one of the vehicles or doing whatever other menial tasks he is capable of doing, Lucifer knows. The Archangel watches Sam, sometimes asking him questions to take his mind off of whatever it is that is pulling him under - sometimes sitting down and telling him an unexpected story of Creation (and these are always sure to hold the young hunter’s attention). 

But, sometimes, even these efforts are not enough. When Sam is growing more and more despondent, when the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he greets the Archangel “good morning,” when he begins to rub his hands together in that manner that is all too unique to him, Lucifer feels it in his very heart. Sam is in pain, and whatever the intangible cause may be, it doesn’t matter. Sam is in pain, and Lucifer was created to heal him. 

Sam is sitting at the large table, his eyes glued to the computer in front of him as the small voice rises up from whatever video he is watching - a news broadcast, no doubt. His hands are rubbing idly together and he’s chewing lightly at his bottom lip, and after looking on for a quiet moment, Lucifer can’t take another second of it. 

He moves silently to Sam’s side, reaching up and closing the laptop without a word. 

“Hey! Lucifer - “ Sam looks up at him in protest, but his tired eyes lose all annoyance when he meets the Archangel’s determined expression. “Luce? What’s wrong?” 

Lucifer presses his lips together, kneeling down slowly before the man, shaking his head gently as he looks up at his other half. 

“I don’t know.” His cool voice alone is enough to ease some of Sam’s tension, but he continues to watch the Archangel, his eyes wary and concerned. 

“But, Sam - I can fix it.” He tilts his head, the ghost of a smile brightening his pale features. “Or, at least, I’m going to try.” Carefully, he reaches out, taking Sam’s hands between his own, curling his fingers over each palm and drawing them closer to his own chest. He looks to Sam a moment longer before bowing his head, turning Sam’s left hand over and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the palm. He then turns and does the same to the right, finally releasing the man’s hands and rising up to his feet again, fingers threading through Sam’s hair as he leans down to place another gentle kiss to the human’s forehead. 

Sam can feel his  **Grace** , as real and obvious as a cool breeze on a hot summer’s day. His heart feels lighter, if just a little, and he looks up to the Archangel with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude in his eyes. 

“Sam - can we go for a walk?” The question draws the hunter’s eyebrows up in surprise, and a small smile graces his lips as he nods hesitantly. “I, uh… I was just -” He gestures vaguely toward the closed laptop, but pauses, swallowing down his jumbled words and looking up to Lucifer with a clear understanding in his eyes. 

“Yeah, Luce. That’d be nice.” He rises from the table, and before he can take a step, Lucifer is reaching out and taking his hand in his own. It isn’t something that’s terribly common - they aren’t exactly the type to traipse about town hand-in-hand, but today, Lucifer seems determined to do just that. 

He keeps a careful, protective grip on Sam’s hand as they move through the bunker, up the stairs, and outside. He flexes and relaxes his fingers in a strange and comforting rhythm throughout their entire walk, and when they return back home, he pulls Sam back gently when he moves toward the door, tugging him down with him into the grass, leaning against one of the large boulders outside as he looks up at the darkening sky. 

Sam doesn’t protest - whatever he had planned can wait, he doesn’t mind. He allows Lucifer to pull his hand into his lap, and every lull in conversation is rewarded with a soft kiss to his palm. And it’s Heaven every time their flesh meets, however fleeting and careful it may be, and even if the unexplainable sorrow and grief is still clinging gently and persistently to his heavy heart, every touch makes it a little lighter, a little more bearable. 

The Morning Star is fierce and dangerous and absolute, that can’t be denied. But when quiet days stretch on too long, and Sam’s hands grow too fidgety, Lucifer shows more strength and resolution than he’s ever shown in the battlefield, and Sam couldn’t be more grateful to have that power laid so generously upon his palms.


End file.
